I’d just finished a couple chocolate chip cookies and was rolling past the phone on the wall by the kitchen door when it rang. Immediately, I knew there was bad news coming even though nobody had answered yet. Mom hopped up to grab it, and I continued down the hall as if I could run away from whatever it was. “How is he?” and, “What do I need to do?” were the two things I heard Mom say into the phone that let me know my premonition was accurate.
They’re hugging each other again tonight.
That doesn’t make it hurt less, though.
On most Sunday nights, my neighbor from across the street rides to church with me in Jackson where our small Episcopal mission meets in a space sectioned off from an old furniture warehouse a few blocks from the Old Capitol Museum. Most nights it’s just us, her son whom she drops off earlier in the afternoon for the youth meeting, and Father Chuck, our vicar. After finishing a six-month-long study of the book of Mark, we spent the last few weeks just talking about whatever was on our minds. The lack of direction tended to lead to rambling, but I really enjoyed listening to the other three debate whatever topic because their combined intelligence is through the roof. I feel like a complete dunderpate while listening to them.
Today is the day our country remembers Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s life, his accomplishments, and what he strived for but wasn’t allowed to live to see come to fruition. It’s an opportunity to examine our country, our states, and also our own pasts relative to how we’ve acted to make things better or worse for all people. Continue reading
Due to miscommunication through no fault of my own, one of the prescriptions I take daily was not refilled last week, and today was day 5 of me not having it.
Withdrawal sucks very much bad.
In lieu of a prescription for the drug I’ve been deprived of, I’d be appreciative of a big bag of cocaine and some instructions on how to smoke it or a merciful euthanization shot. Help!
I’ve never been much of a vacationer. Growing up, we didn’t go on many vacations. It just wasn’t that big of a deal for my family. I can remember a couple trips to the beach, one or two visits to see distant relatives, and a week at a cabin at a state park. Outside of those instances, my travel experiences were mostly centered around school or church trips. As I’ve gotten older and my independence has been wrested from my grasp, the hassles of travel have kept me mostly within a couple hours drive of central Mississippi.
Today, I contacted the Mississippi Department of Rehabilitation Services concerning a few areas of service they provide. One request concerned funding assistance for someone to help me a few hours a day with stuff around the house and the other was concerning some minor adaptive equipment for my car. I’ve used Voc Rehab several times in the past to help cover the exorbitant cost of medical equipment and vehicle modifications so I can remain a somewhat independent productive member of society. Continue reading
This past Saturday was a pretty special one for me. I turned 40, which seemed to be more significant than turning 30 and probably even more than 21. I feel like I have to be a real adult, now. Birthdays, and if I’m being honest, most other events haven’t ever gotten much of an emotion from me. However, the time leading up to this milestone has been pretty heavy with a significant chunk of my life having been uprooted, shaken, drowned, thrown at the wall, and hung on the line to dry. This past weekend signified to me a new beginning.
Saturday, I turn 40 and get to spend the evening with some of the childhood friends that populate the memories floating through my daydreams. Right now, I’m smiling as I think of the conversations I’ve had recently while planning this get together. The voices on the other end of the phone are different and so are some of our waistlines, I’d imagine, but somewhere in our cores, there are still the same kids from school, church, birthday parties, and sleepovers. Here’s to being a kid again even if for just one night.
I just spent a long time writing my first blog post in a while where I ranted for about 1500 words, and the words were flying from my fingertips like flies from a hog farm. The prose was pure genius as I lambasted my target. Then, I got 3/5ths of the way through a brilliant closing paragraph when I stopped and re-read what I’d just written, and it hit me… Dammit, Robbie! You’re being an old jackass and you don’t need to let everybody else know that.